Mistletoe
by midwintersilver
Summary: Sequel fic to "A Merry Little Christmas." Harm, Mac, Mattie and the morning after.


Not mine, just playing.

Apparently I can't write fluff without dashes of angst. So here we are.

* * *

Mac's eyes drifted open slowly. She could hear wind against the windows and voices in the distance. The bed she slept in felt warm, but unfamiliar - there was a soothing scent on her pillow and someone's warm breath spread across her back. A shiver gushed down her spine every time he exhaled. They fitted into each other, curves against planes, like an answered question - one of his arms rested loosely round her waist, and his legs were tangled in hers. Her face flushed. She hadn't slept this well in… well, she couldn't remember the last time. She wanted to stay here forever.

This was the most realistic dream she'd had for months. Everything from the clatter of the half-open window to the weight of an arm on her waist seemed tangible. Despite her desperate need to learn exactly _who_ her unconscious had placed in bed with her, Mac knew well enough not to focus on the details of the dream lest she chase it away. Instead she took a deep breath and sank back into sensation, enjoying the play of his warm, dark breath on her hair.

"Mac?" The voice was a little fuzzy, as if calling from a great distance. She must have succeeded in falling back to sleep – a first, she noted mildly – but she was certainly not ready to wake up yet. Willing her body heavy, she fought to slip back into the paradisal ether of her dream. She'd almost succeeded when "Mac?" the voice came again, closer and more insistent. Whoever he was (the voice was male, Mac decided) he seemed to be laughing.

It was a different voice that came this time – a girl, no more than 16. "For God's sake, Mac, I would've thought you liked Christmas!" She sounded huffy and mildly upset. The owner of the first voice, still hovering over her, leant down to kiss her gently on the forehead. Deciding she was too far gone at this point to find her way back to the dream, Mac rolled over slightly and slowly opened her eyes.

One hand rose to her chest and she could feel her heart skip a beat. It was Harm leaning over her in a t-shirt and shorts, a smile pulling up the sides of his face as he watched her regain her faculties. It took a moment for everything to click back in, but when it did she remembered the night before – ice-cream, the snow fight, the wall. Mattie. "We'd all be good together." She shifted again, looking up at him fully with an expression of utter bliss stretching across her features. And then she was Mac again, fierce Marine warrior and Energizer bunny. She was Mac, and it was _Christmas,_ for God's sakes.

Mattie, standing at the door of Harm's bedroom in a Navy t-shirt and volleyball shorts, did not seem the slightest bit surprised about the sleeping arrangements. In fact, she gave Mac the barest hint of a grin as she came past. Mac thanked her silently for last night's conversation, knowing she'd have to find time to do it properly later. That girl noticed more than she should, and she'd done more for Mac than she would probably ever know.

She snagged one of Harm's sweatshirts on her way out of the room, pulling it over her head in a well-practiced gesture. Far too many of their mutual friends had seen her in Harm's clothes, forcing her to swear up and down it _didn't mean anything_ on more than one occasion. Harriet and Sturgis had both raised an eyebrow and said "whatever you say, Mac," in a way that did not inspire confidence. This time, she spent a moment revelling in the realisation that it could mean something if she wanted it to (and maybe it had all along.) It made her uncommonly happy.

Harm ducked his head back in to check if she was coming, an impatient Mattie bouncing behind him. "Pancakes are ready, Mac" he said in his cheery morning voice, blue eyes settling on her brown and pulling her in. She pushed her hair back with one hand and squeezed one of his with the other as she passed. Their eyes met for a moment, and said everything at once. It was enough.

He caught up with her at the door to the kitchen, his long strides making him quicker than even the Energizer-bunny Marine. She felt hypersensitive to his heat beside her; it was pleasant and certainly welcome.

"Stop!" Mattie called from the stove, where she stood transferring pancakes from pan to plate.

Standing in the doorway, they looked at each other suspiciously. Then both their eyes flicked to Mattie. "Is something up?" asked Harm with a trace of confusion.

"Yup, something is. Look up right now," said Mattie with a Cheshire-cat grin.

Slowly, their eyes traced an arc from the teenager at the stove to the ceiling above them. Then Mac craned her neck slightly and noticed something green on the doorframe.

She leaned up to whisper in Harm's ear "It's mistletoe."

Harm groaned, looking at Mattie – who stood with one hand on her hip and an even wider grin than before on her face.

"You know the rules," she said, taking obvious pleasure in his discomfort.

Mac looked at Harm and raised an eyebrow. "Two can play at that game."

She saw a sparkle in Harm's eye as he caught her drift. Suddenly he was all around her, lips on hers as he pressed her against the doorframe. The kiss was a thousand fireworks and a million sunsets compressed into one moment. He drew back for a second, then pulled his arms tighter around her and kissed her again. They had years of lost time to make up for, after all.

Mac knew it would spoil the game if she sent a surreptitious glance or two Mattie's way, but it certainly wasn't hard to get lost in the long-awaited kiss. Harm cupped her cheek with one hand and tucked the other round her waist, holding her just far enough off the doorframe that the corners didn't hurt. One hand tangled in his t-shirt and the other in his hair, she kissed him back with all the feeling she could muster.

Long moments stretched in the game of cat-and-mouse before Mattie finally broke. "Ew, you can stop now," she said lightly, downplaying her loss, and turned back to her (now-burnt) pancakes.

Mac and Harm shared a grin, holding each other's eyes for a second and suppressing the laughter that brewed in their stomachs. Then Mac went to lay the table while Harm offered his help with the pancakes, moving around the kitchen in an easy, unchoreographed pattern. Despite her professed disgust, Mattie couldn't help enjoying the way they fitted together. The incredible simplicity of their undefinable relationship caused a bubbly feeling like warm fizzy acid in her gut.

"I like you two, you know?" she said innocently, spooning another dollop of batter into the pan.

Mac looked at Harm, the corner of her mouth quirking up into a smile, then back to Mattie. "We like you too, Mattie."

Mac's grin was slightly dazed, as if she hadn't realised quite what she was saying until it came out of her mouth. For as long as she could remember, she had noticed – and been jealous of – the ease with which couples said "we." As a little girl with beatings echoing in her head and ideas she didn't dare voice, she had unconsciously reached for the love that surrounded her at the park and at the supermarket, wishing she could capture it and hold its warmth close to her chest. It might only have been a reflection of the real thing, but it was enough to wipe her mind clean for a second as she gave way to elation. So all through her rocky upbringing, and despite the constant, innocent resentment that her parents didn't love her that way, she basked in the glory of her friends' parents love. From a partner's casual hand on someone's knee as they drove to a stolen kiss on the way to work, it was pirated experiences which gave her hope that gloriously loving relationships could be a reality.

And the "we" – the "we" just seemed to encompass everything those relationships were. There was so much unstated assumption supporting that one word – that you knew how the other person felt well enough to speak for them, and also knew that they wouldn't mind you doing so – that you had been together fully enough and long enough that you had almost become one person – that you _wanted_ to speak for them because you always _wanted_ them around. That they didn't object to that.

That Harm and her – together - had become a "we" in her mind so quickly made her head spin. It made her wonder if this was right – if such a quick decision could end with anything but shrapnel and fallout. She tried to squash that thought – the thought that this wasn't real because nothing else ever had been – down with all the might she possessed, but it just rose up again.

Suddenly she was crying, a choking sound which seemed to turn her insides over and caused Harm to look up at her with fear and concern in his eyes. In two steps he was across the room and holding her, stroking her back like he knew how to comfort her instinctively. "Mac?" he asked, steering her quietly into the bedroom with an apologetic glance back at Mattie.

"It's stupid." She was sitting up on the bed, wiping her tears away furiously with the back of her hand.

"If you feel strongly about it, it's far from stupid."

"No, I…you….don't understand. It is. It's just me being all…dumb and dark and….it's like I can't believe in anything! I can't believe in you! And you have no idea how _bloody_ much I want to!" she spat through the tears.

"You can't believe in me?" He tentatively reached an arm round her shoulder and she leaned in, ashamed at her weakness – at the way she needed him even when she was exposing him to everything he didn't need to hear.

"I can't…" she tried to stall the sobbing. He deserved a coherent explanation, now she'd put the fear in his eyes with her dark, twisty crap. "I can't believe that this is actually going to last."

"Neither." That stalled her.

"Wait – what?"

"I can't honestly believe that someone who I love as much as I love you would actually choose me over everyone else in their lives who could offer them so much _better._ "

"But I don't want better – I want you."

"Exactly." She felt like a child who had been caught in the trap of her own reasoning without understanding the logic. "I can't believe that you'd want me and not better, even though you tell me you do."

"That's my line!" she said, the words breaking through waiting tears. "You…you can't think that _I'm_ too good for _you!_ "

"But in a lot of ways, I do."

"But I think _you're_ too good for _me_!"

"Well then maybe we'll just be good for each other." She recognised Mattie's words from the other night and smiled slightly. "Mac, do you intend on leaving me?"

"NO! Why would I leave you? You're…. you're everything." Well now she'd bared her soul.

"Good. Because let me tell you, I am never, ever leaving you out of my own free will. I'm not going anywhere, Mac." He gave a wry smile. "You're stuck with me."

She leaned into his chest, sobbing hard. "I can't believe I did this to you on Christmas Day."

"I love you," he responded simply, nose buried in her hair.

"Love you too. I'm such a mess."

"You're my mess. Wouldn't have it any other way, Sarah."

"Mmmm…" she breathed out in a long, warm puff against his chest. "Shall we make sure Mattie knows we haven't killed each other?"

And that was their first Christmas, Mattie thought. Putting the broken pieces of each other back together like usual, throwing everything into their love like they'd have to let go tomorrow. Somehow they managed to spare some for her, swamping her in enormous hugs as they handed her Christmas presents, sending her glances and smiles and always knowing where she was and how she felt.

Mac's present for her was a silver 'M' necklace. It was immediately her favourite piece of jewellery – not necessarily because of the thing itself but everything it represented. Every time she wore it, feeling its coolness grounding her as it rested against her chest, she was reminded of that love that wrapped her up like a warm blanket.

Harm's present was a pair of aviator sunglasses – "so you can look like a chick who flies." He shared a smile with Mac at that, knowing that she understood what flying meant to him – to both of them. And Mac smiled back at Mattie, telling her she looked "very cool." There they were again, making her feel part of something.

And then, to top it off… "Can I talk to you for a second?" Mac asked Mattie as they finished lunch.

"Sure," she responded, as Harm got up and left quietly.

"I just wanted to say thankyou."

"Whatever for?"

"For what you said to Harm last night. You…gave him the courage to come after me. And since I would never have had the courage to come after him, it's the only way we would have got together."

"You're welcome. I meant it, Mac, you're good for him and he's good for you. Everyone's happier when you're together."

Mac smiled wryly. "Maybe I'm just working that out, but everyone else seems to have known it for years."

"Hey, teenage girls always know best. Didn't your own childhood teach you anything?"

Mac's face dropped for a second. Breathe in, breathe out. She didn't know. She couldn't have known. And Mac was here to stop her making the same mistakes she did. "I suppose it did," she said lightly, trying to keep the emotion out of her voice and avoid Mattie's questioning glance.

"Sorry if I said something wrong." Mac could see her face closing down like a series of deadlocks – those all-too-familiar walls.

"No, kid, you're fine. You're completely fine. I was just thinking about what you said," she lightened her tone with the gentleness she wanted to shape her interactions with Mattie, "and I think we'd all be excellent together. You're good for both of us too, you know?"

Joy flashed across Mattie's face like shimmery paint. "I….thankyou…you….have no idea how much that means."

"I can imagine. But you know I'd only tell you the truth, right? That wasn't an empty compliment. We do like you, Mattie, and you're making…well, me at least…" she grinned over her shoulder and mouthed _I don't know about him_ , "…a better person."

Something that looked suspiciously like a tear trickled down Mattie's face and Mac stepped closer. "Permission to hug the commander's ward?"

Mattie stuck out her tongue and hugged Mac like she never wanted to let go.

At that moment Harm walked in, had a silent conversation with Mac when her eyes flicked up from Mattie's shoulder, and gained permission to join the hug.

"Thankyou, Mattie," he whispered, guessing at the contents of the conversation. And then, in the tight hug under the Christmas tree, he made the biggest declaration of all. It was a promise of the future Mattie saw for them together, and Mac marvelled at and feared in equal parts. It was a promise that whatever happened, he would be there for them and they would be there for each other. It was a promise that the warmth that spread between them, almost visceral in the Christmas tree lights, would never be allowed to go cold. And perhaps no-one but Santa and his two girls heard him as he said in a voice as soft as a blanket and resolute as steel…

"I love you both."


End file.
